Don't Copy That Floppy: Difference between revisions
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I know the truth now, why this all happened. Allow me to
It happened when I was over my
I arrived at his house as twilight gripped the sky, and all four of his roommates were out partying. The semester had ended, but Kyle was, as I am, an introvert that feels more comfortable in basic social situations. They would likely pass out at the party, and not awake until the late morning, so the house was all to ourselves for the night.
We played video games for a couple hours, but I really
Like, hyper-realistic graphics.
Whatever, I thought. I figured the consoles, like the games, were modded (which I later found out to be true.) When we finished playing MAJORA, with that stupid
He led me downstairs into a damp, musty-smelling cellar. It was rather cluttered, except for one corner, which had a dimly lighted area masked by a large curtain. Kyle drew the curtain, revealing a desk with an ancient computer from the nineties running on an equally ancient monitor. On the side of his two-button ball mouse was a black envelope. It was in the center of the ring of light cast by an overhanging lamp.
Kyle glared at me, but not in a menacing way, but rather in a pondering, analyzing way.
Then it hit me. When I saw the envelope, I immediately - almost involuntarily - shifted my attention to it. I tried to play it off.
Kyle nodded.
Kyle shook his head.
Just then the error message on the monitor disappeared. The command box returned, and maximized itself on its own, filling the screen with darkness. Kyle was still facing away from the monitor while this was happening.
Just as Kyle faced the monitor, the black box completely covered the screen, obscuring even the operating
I was terrified at what I saw. I
MC 666 looked at us and laughed that terrifying Kefka laugh.
▲I was terrified at what I saw. I didn’t really know why; it was pixels on a monitor, only a complete moron would actually fear it. In the view was a man dressed in a cheap leather vest. A patch with a picture of a pentagram was tattooed onto the vest, coupled with “MC 666” in blood red text below it. He was wearing a goofy top hat. He had, of course, black eyes with red pupils. Why wouldn’t he?
▲MC 666 looked at us and laughed that terrifying Kefka laugh. “'''Don’t copy that floppy! Or you will die a horrible death muhahahaha!'''”
▲“Uh,” I really didn’t know what to make of it. I always wanted to see a haunted piece of technology, and it fascinated me. Even if it were possessed, I knew it couldn’t do shit, that it was only using scare tactics and boring literary devices. But maybe I could talk to it…
▲''…how the fuck could I do that?'' It was as if this entire situation was making me believe nonsense. And now it was making me feel like feeling like it was making me feel nonsense was nonsense. If MC 666 was trying to possess me, I was going to butt fuck him before throwing him out of my mind.
▲“'''I can hear you, cockshit!'''” MC 666 yelled in that extremely hyper-realistic voice. “'''Talk to me, you know you want to.'''”
▲“Fine,” I said. I sounded so stupid and expected Kyle to break out in a laugh when it escaped my lips, but he didn’t. “What do you want?”
▲“'''I want you to take this floppy disk,” the zombie-like figure from behind the screen said. “And I want you to send it in the mail to another one of your friends. Attach a note to it, and act super scared and tell them to burn it or something stupid like that. He will play it, and I will RAPE him!”
MC 666 laughed like Kefka again.
▲“Why haven’t you raped us?” I asked.
▲MC 666 laughed like Kefka again. “'''You already have the instruments, the tools. The old man’s box of shitty bootleg cartridges, that was me. I am all the sketchy old people at tag sales who give away games like that! And now my next victim will be compelled to play, and keep playing, my haunted games!'''”
▲“''Your'' haunted games?” Kyle asked. “These games aren’t haunted, they’re just really bad.”
▲“'''Do you understand now?'''” he asked. And the strangest part was, I did. I let him run his mouth anyway because I figured it would make him feel better.
▲“<nowiki>'</nowiki>''I am the embodiment of all darkness and clichés.'' I plant the shitty creepypast''''a ideas in the minds of terrible writers, and I laugh as pathetic fanbases gather around them. I am the black eyes with red pupils, I am the hyper-realistic blood. I am the eventless level, the intern, and the nostalgia boner. So don’t FUCK with me. If you copy the floppy, I’ll appear in the form of an incredibly strong doll and MURDER you!'''”
I copied the floppy anyways. MC 666 can go fuck himself. Still, I told Kyle that I needed to get back to my house (I actually am living with my parents right now), even though I planned to sleep over. It was just going to be too awkward if I stayed the night. When I got home, my parents were waiting for me at the front door. I told them what happened, and my mom got scared and said "you're moving with your auntie and your uncle in Bel-Air." I whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said "Fresh" and there were dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare but I thought, naw, forget it, yo holmes to Bel-Air. I pulled up to the house about seven or eight and said to the cabbie "yo holmes smell ya later." Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
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